


The Little Moments

by Ailelie, Cinaed



Series: Enduring Legends [29]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Brunch, Christmas, F/F, F/M, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Holidays, M/M, No season 4 spoilers, Phone Calls & Telephones, Presents, Sister-Sister Relationship, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-25
Updated: 2011-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-28 04:09:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailelie/pseuds/Ailelie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Christmas Day, 2011</em></p><p>In which the characters celebrate Christmas Day in their own ways.</p><p>This chapter is a series of shorter stories, each ranging approximately 100 to 500 words, that share a moment from each character's celebrations on the 25th.</p><p>Arthur/Gwen, Elle/Gavin, Ambrose/David, with mentions of Anna/Elliot<br/>Includes sister-sister and like-a!father-son conversations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Moments

**_Christmas Day, 2011_   
**

 

 **David and Ambrose**

At first David didn’t know what had woken him. Ambrose was a warm weight against his back, one arm draped across David’s waist and holding him close, breathing slowly but loudly in his ear.

After a moment, though, his cell’s ring tone cut through Ambrose’s noisy breathing. David squinted in disbelief at the clock. Who could be calling at 6 in the morning on Christmas? Ambrose’s mother knew better than to call at such an indecent hour.

He wiggled his way free of Ambrose’s grasp, grabbing the phone and ignoring Ambrose’s mumbled inquiry about who was calling. It was an unfamiliar number, and for a second David was tempted to deny the call and go back to sleep.

“Answer it,” Ambrose said drowsily. “Could be important.”

David dragged his thumb up the screen and lifted the cell to his ear. “Hello?” he asked. The word came out as a croak, his voice rusty from sleep and last night’s singing.

“Dad!” Shea chirped.

David nearly rolled off the bed in surprise. Suddenly he was wide awake. “Shea?”

“Shea?” Ambrose repeated. David didn’t have to glance over his shoulder to know that Ambrose was beaming at him in amazed delight.

“Dad! I wanted to call ALL DAY, but Grandma and Grandpa said the call was too expensive, but then I told them that you’d be sad if I didn’t call, and that I asked Santa to let me talk to you on Christmas, and that Santa had promised I could talk to you, and they said YES,” Shea said, all at a rapid-fire, excited pace.

David lay back down, grinning at Ambrose and the ceiling of the bedroom. “Well, they couldn’t argue with Santa,” he agreed. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath as Ambrose caught his free hand in his and squeezed it. “I’m glad you called,” he said softly, joy making him feel weightless. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad!” Shea said, laughing.

David kept his eyes closed, smiling, as Shea began to excitedly tell him all about the presents “Santa” had brought him.

“Merry Christmas, David,” Ambrose whispered in his other ear.

“Merry Christmas,” David whispered back.  

 

 **Percy**

“Percy! Percy!” Torren was wriggling with excitement by the time Percy stumbled out of bed and opened the door to the guest room. “It’s time for presents!”

“Did Santa bring a lot?” Percy asked, grinning at his cousin’s enthusiastic nod.

“Tons!” Torren declared, and went up on his tiptoes to grab at Percy’s hand. “Come on!”

Percy slouched a little, letting his cousin to catch hold of his hand and allowing Torren to drag him into the living room. The smell of pine and hot chocolate reached him, and his grin widened at the sight of Valerie tearing into a present with eager determination.

Dinah shot him a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “As you may have noticed, we decided not to wait for you,” she explained dryly.

“Valerie was going to scream if she didn’t open a present!” Dominic announced, and then stuck his tongue out at Torren when his brother muttered, “Tattletale.”

Lambert wrapped an arm around Percy’s leg. “I got a dinosaur!” he said happily.

Percy pretended to look around the room. “Must not be a big one,” he said, earning a delighted giggle from Lambert.

“No, silly, it’s a _toy_ ,” he said. “Want to play dinosaurs? You can be the T-rex!”

“Lambert!” Dinah said, laughing. The look she shot Percy then was apologetic, but he just grinned at her. “First we all open our presents. Then you can play.”

Lambert released Percy with reluctance, and Percy sat on the couch with Dinah. For a few minutes, he and his sister just watched the kids tear open their presents. “I’m sorry we missed your performance at the shelter,” she said.

He shrugged. “You already had plans. It’s fine,” he said. He shook his head. “Besides, I made a kid cry. Wouldn’t have wanted to scare Dominic or Valerie.”

Dinah laughed and nudged him with her elbow. “That just makes me want to see your performance even more,” she said, and paused. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“No,” her husband said, overhearing. “Just means you’re not a saint, surprisingly.”

Dinah laughed and made a face at him.

“I don’t think anyone taped it,” Percy said. He thought for a moment. “Could ask Elle,” he said finally. “She might’ve gotten someone to film it.”

“Sounds good,” Dinah said, and then sighed as something whizzed by her head. “Every year,” she said, shaking her head as Torren threw another wrapping paper ball at Percy. “Every dang year.”

“Family tradition,” Percy said, and then flinched as Valerie caught him right in the middle of the forehead with a paper ball with the bow still attached. He got to his feet, mock-growling as Valerie shrieked with laughter. “Revenge,” he growled. “Revenge!”

Torren and Dominc responded by grabbing all the wrapping paper they could get their hands on and scrambling to hide behind the Christmas tree.

“You all are picking up the mess!” Dinah informed them all, and laughed as three different paper balls flew at her instead.

 

 

 **Anna**

"And then a strange man gave you his phone number," Belle said, unimpressed. She sopped up the rest of her syrup with her last bite of pancakes.

"He wasn't a strange man," Anna corrected. "He's a close friend of an old roommate's. They're practically siblings." She took a final bite of her biscuits and gravy before pushing the plate aside, full.

"But you've not seen him for years and he immediately came onto you."

Anna shook her head. "It wasn't like that."

Belle looked up, her mouth twisting into a half-smile. "I'm not trying to be negative," Belle said, touching the back of Anna's hand. "You're just important to me. You're my sister."

Anna covered Belle's hand with her free one and squeezed. "And you to me." Until Belle had found her one Christmas during undergrad, Anna had assumed she was alone in the world. Disentangling their hands, Anna asked, "Did Lia's father ask you to bring anything for dinner this holiday?"

Belle gave a small, private smile. "I think Paul has finally accepted that I am more the type to ride to war than keep the hearth. Lia might bring something though. How will you be occupying yourself this evening?"

" _IQ84_ ," Anna answered. "I bought the book when it came out, but I never had time to read it." After her traditional brunch with Belle, Anna enjoyed spending the rest of the day selfishly.

"You could call your stranger," Belle said.

"I told you," Anna replied. "It wasn't like that."

"I will kill him if he hurts you," Belle said, her tone light enough to give Anna pause. She caught Belle's hand with her own.

"I probably won't even call him anyway."

"You should," Belle said, surprising Anna. Belle smiled wryly. "My care for you isn't entirely selfish. I am only skeptical of the circumstances." Then pulling back and signaling for a waiter, she added, "Besides, even if he proves completely horrible, he may help us learn more about what the Arthurs are planning."

Anna laughed. "I'll call him," she promised.

"Good."

 

 

 **Elliot**

Elliot was not sure whether he wanted to thank Gwen or curse her. She had shoved a large bowl of carrots, potatoes, onions, and peppers at him that needed peeling and chopping. Then she'd run off to find a store still open that had some missing, most likely entirely mythical ingredient, leaving Elliot alone with Tom.

Tom had only looked at the spread of tasks with a fond smile and said, "Guess we should start with the peeling. You want carrots or potatoes?" He'd opted for the potatoes considering he'd never realized carrots even required peeling.

Tom kept up an idle patter of anecdotes, filling the silence. His eyes kept flickering toward Elliot in concern, but he didn't ask or say anything. Elliot was grateful, but knowing that Tom was waiting for _something_ only made the guilt press harder.

Finally he broke. "Thanks, for including me and all. I probably could have found a way home."

Tom barely paused in his chopping. "Nonsense. We're here and you're family." He was so matter-of-fact that Elliot's breath caught. Earlier frustration and anger drained.

"But I'm not," he protested. He focused entirely on his knife and the chunks of potato it created.

"Elliot," Tom said in a tone of voice that allowed no leeway. "Look at me." Elliot looked up. Tom had put down his knife, his full attention on Elliot. "I bandaged your scraped knees when you fell off your bike and didn't want your mom to know. I helped coach your junior basketball team. When your mom had to go out of town that one weekend, I stayed home with you while you threw up every five minutes and had a fever like a space heater. Hell, I'm the one who talked with you about sex. I did not father you, but you _are_ my family."

Elliot tried to swallow past the knot in his throat. Tom picked up his knife again and use it to point at the beheaded peppers. "Why don't you wash out the seeds?" he asked. Elliot nodded. He reached for the plate of peppers and started for Gwen's sink.

 "Oh, and Elliot?" Elliot paused. "I hope you have a couch or spare bed in that apartment of yours. I'm staying tonight. I think you and I have more to talk about."

"All right," Elliot said. His voice was strained, but he was starting to smile. "I'll see if I can find something."

"You better," Tom replied. "Don't want your mom to find out you'd let an old man sleep on the floor."

"She'd have my hide," Elliot agreed, the smile finally breaking free. "Gwen, too, probably."

Tom chuckled. "Nah, she takes her medical oaths too seriously to do that. She would give you a very serious and disappointed stare though." He mimicked such a stare.

Elliot sniggered. "Lord, save me from Gwen's glares."

When Gwen returned shortly after and, making a face, asked why they'd not yet finished the chopping, neither he nor Tom could hold in their laughter.

 

 

 **Elle and Gavin**

“You’re pacing,” Gavin observed.

Elle forced herself to stand still. “I’m nervous,” she admitted.

Gavin’s expression softened. “Come here,” he said, and then crooked his finger at her when she didn’t immediately move forward.

She settled into his arms, resting her head against his chest as he pressed a kiss upon her hair. “My mom is going to love you,” he said. “Believe me, I’m the one on the outs with her. Apparently I shouldn’t have hidden you away for so long.”

Elle took in a deep breath. “I’m just not very good at first impressions, usually,” she said. “I met Gwen by falling down the stairs.”

Gavin chuckled. “Really? You’ll have to tell me that story sometime.” He dropped another kiss onto her head. “My mom’s going to love you,” he repeated firmly. “You’re beautiful, and sweet, and funny, and kind. She grilled me on your likes and dislikes, how we met, the works. She’s especially looking forward to your recounting of the Carol.”

“Okay,” Elle said, taking another deep breath and trying to quell the nervousness that gnawed at her stomach. “Just—stop me if I go overboard, okay?”

Gavin didn’t ask her what she meant. He released her slowly and took a step backwards, grinning at her in the same soft way he’d been looking at her ever since he’d given her the ring.

Elle grabbed his scarf and tugged him in for a quick kiss. “Let’s go,” she said.

“Okay,” Gavin agreed. He flashed her a teasing grin. “Break a leg.”

“Oh, shut up,” Elle said, laughing, and dragged him by the scarf towards the door.

 

 **Gwen and Arthur**

Once her father and Elliot had taken off, Gwen started putting away her gifts—clothing, an interesting medical documentary, a couple books, and a new plate for her cell phone.

A knock on her door interrupted a trip to her closet. Gwen laid her clothes over a couch arm and went to the door.

"I told you you'd forget some—Arthur. I thought you were Elliot. Why are you here? Not that I'm not happy to see you of course. But it's Christmas and—" Gwen stopped and took a deep breath. She'd not babbled since high school and was not about to pick up the habit again now. "Arthur. Merry Christmas. Would you like to come in?"

Arthur, smiling in amusement, shook his head. "I have a car waiting for me outside. I just wanted to bring this in." He pulled a small package from behind his back.

"You bought me a gift," Gwen said, reaching for the package. "I didn't get you anything."

Arthur shrugged. "I didn't expect you to. Go ahead, open it."

"Here? In the hall?" Gwen asked, her fingers already searching for a seam in the paper. "This isn't going to be like Ambrose's pen, is it?"

"Does he have to tell you everything?" Arthur asked, rolling his eyes. "You'd think he just be grateful, but no." He stopped, his smile warming Gwen. "No, it isn't like Ambrose's pen."

Gwen rolled the paper into a ball and tossed it behind her. Giving Arthur one last measuring look, she opened the box. Laying across a pair of rolled newspaper balls was a delicate silver chain. "I can't take this," Gwen said, her gaze flying back up to Arthur. "This must've cost far too much."

She pushed the box back toward Arthur. He stopped her. "It cost me nothing," he said. "When my mother died, I stole her jewelry box before my father could pack it away with the rest of her belongings. When I noticed your ring, I thought this chain would be perfect to hold it when you couldn't wear it."

"I can't take your mother's jewelry," Gwen said softly. The chain was beautiful, however. The antique silver matched her ring as if it'd been made for it.

"I still have the box," Arthur said. "This is just one of her chains. Please take it, Gwen." Gwen bit her lip, but then lifted the chain from the box.

"Hold this." She shoved the box into Arthur's hands. Holding the chain on one wrist, Gwen pulled off her ring and strung it on the chain. Gwen could hear her heart beat. Seeing the ring dangling from the chain, she felt like the world quieted. "Help me." She held out the chain to Arthur. He traded her for the box. Gwen turned and drew her hair aside.

The chain rested cold around her neck as Arthur clasped it on. His fingers smoothed over her shoulders, and he pressed a warm kiss to the join at her collar. Gwen turned, intercepting his next kiss with her lips. Arthur pulled back, tracing her necklace down to the ring. "It suits you."

"Thank you," Gwen said. "For the gift, not the compliment. Though I am—"

Arthur quieted her babbling with soft kiss. "I should go," he said.

"Right. Your car is waiting."

"Right." He pulled away. She was pleased to note his cheeks were flushed. "Merry Christmas, Gwendolyn."

"Merry Christmas, Arthur," she replied.

Arthur stood awkwardly for a moment, then said, "I'll just go then. I'll call you. We can do something."

Gwen smiled. "Something sounds wonderful. Good night." Then with one last kiss, she stepped back and gently closed the door between them.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Cinaed and Ailelie each wrote three of the scenes.


End file.
